Off Time
by BunniesOfDoom
Summary: Yuri might have just won the Grand Prix Finals, but he can't seem to catch a break. Sickfic.


This was requested by my friend on tumblr and set in her AU where Victor is Yuri's coach. Content warning for vomit. It's set post-series. Enjoy!

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"I'm very proud of you, Yuri! Winning the Grand Prix Final in your senior debut is very impressive!" Victor exclaims, patting Yuri's shoulder as they walk out of the airport. Yuri beams at the praise, blushing a little.

As the taxi they're sharing nears Yuri's apartment, Victor pipes up again. "Now, I'm sure that you're exhausted and jet-lagged from traveling, so I want you to take the next three days off. I think that you've earned a break!"

Grudgingly, Yuri agrees. When the taxi comes to his stop, he grabs his things and gets out. Victor waves Yuri off before he can pay his part of the fare. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it. See you on Friday!"

Yuri climbs up the stairs to his flat and unlocks the door before collapsing onto the couch with a groan. "What am I supposed to do for the next few days?" he complains. Sitting around at home doing nothing doesn't sound very appealing. Surely he can find something to do. He glances down at his phone and stifles a yawn. Wow, he had no idea that it was already getting this late. He'll find something to do tomorrow; right now he should go to bed.

The next day he wakes up around nine, which is extremely late for him, but he's still a bit out of it. He wanders around the apartment, looking for things to do. After checking his kitchen and finding it completely devoid of anything edible, he makes a trip to the store. That taken care of, he makes himself breakfast and unpacks his suitcase. While he's at it, he decides to reorganize a couple things. He's full of restless energy after he finishes, and decides to go for a run.

It's not skating, he tells himself, so technically he's not disobeying Victor. The next two days pass in the same slow manner, with Yuri eventually digging out his DS, desperate for something to do. He makes himself a healthy dinner and goes to bed early on the third night, excited to finally get back to training.

Despite his early retirement the night before, Yuri wakes up groggy and sore, with a headache pounding in the back of his skull. Still, he needs to get back to training, so he takes some painkillers and eats breakfast before jogging out to meet Victor. He's not about to disappoint his coach because of a sore head.

Victor is absurdly cheerful for six in the morning. "Good to see you again, Yuri! Did you have a good break?"

Yuri just nods in response, wincing slightly as the motion jars his head. It's way too early in the day for this sort of small talk. Victor is undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm.

"Well, let's get on the ice and warm up! I'd like to go over your routines and see what changes we need to make before the Russian nationals. I want you at your best for your next competition!"

They stretch and Yuri starts going through his routines. He feels off today, and clumsy, and it shows in his movements. With each attempt, his jumps get sloppier. Yuri grits his teeth in frustration. He just nailed these routines at the Grand Prix Final, so why are they suddenly so difficult?

Victor has noticed his difficulties and calls for him to stop with a frown. "I understand that you just had a big win, but that's no excuse for not putting your full effort into your skating. Practice is over for today, so you should go for a jog to cool down, grab something to eat, and get to bed. I want you here bright and early again tomorrow, and I want you to have your head in the game this time."

Yuri just nods wearily, his head throbbing painfully. Still, he's disappointed with himself; a little headache isn't a good enough excuse for how terrible his skating has been today. He forces himself into a run on the way home, despite the fact that his limbs feel like lead, and manages to swallow a couple mouthfuls of food before collapsing into bed. His appetite is nonexistent, but he's already disappointed Victor enough for one day; he can at least do this much.

His alarm goes off, announcing that it's time to get up, but Yuri is so disoriented that it takes him a minute to discern where the sound is coming from. He reaches out a hand to turn it off, blinking against his hazy vision. It's absolutely freezing in his room, and Yuri casts a worried glance over at the window, wondering if he accidentally left it open again.

Upon finding it tightly shut, Yuri is puzzled. Maybe the heater is broken? He's trembling so hard that it takes him a few minutes to untangle himself from the sweaty sheets. Standing up only makes things worse, making his stomach lurch uncomfortably and his headache return with a vengeance. Yuri drags himself on heavy, aching limbs to get ready. It takes twice as long as usual because of the residual shaking, and his reflection in the mirror looks pale and clammy.

He heads out the door without eating anything; the idea of trying to choke down anything right now makes his nausea increase tenfold. He barely makes it to the rink on time, skidding heavily to a stop in front of his coach. "Let's get started!"

Skating is far more difficult than it should be. Yuri's head feels dizzy and it's hard to keep his eyes open. Victor scolds him every time he misses a jump or trips over his own feet in a step sequence. By the time they reach the first water break, Yuri is having a hard time catching his breath. Still, he doesn't say anything, just lingers by the benches longer than usual, hoping that Victor will take the hint and let him be done early.

He doesn't. "If you're trying to get out of practicing, it's not going to work. By the looks of things, you desperately need the extra training. Now, I want you to run through Allegro Apassionado again. Focus on cleaning up the final step sequence and being more graceful with your arms."

Yuri almost groans out loud. His free skate is difficult enough on a good day; doing it right now seems impossible. Still, he's annoyed Victor enough for one day, so he gets into his starting position.

The routine is as difficult as Yuri feared it would be, and by the time he's halfway through, the rink feels like it's spinning around him. He barely manages to finish, wobbling unsteadily on his feet and pressing a hand to his suddenly tight throat. His stomach is churning angrily, and he's afraid of what will happen if he opens his mouth.

"Yuri!" Victor calls him over to the side of the rink. Yuri painstakingly makes his way over, swallowing hard to keep from throwing up. "Is everything alright? You look pale?"

Yuri doesn't respond, too busy trying to stay conscious at this point. Black spots fill his vision and he sways on his feet, Victor automatically reaching out to steady him. "You're not alright," he gasps, feeling the heat from Yuri's burning skin. "Yuri, are you feeling sick?"

This time, Yuri does open his mouth to answer, only for his stomach to force its way up his throat. He gags, startled, before spewing vomit all over himself and the ice. When he can finally look up again, he realizes that he puked all over Victor, too! Mortified, he tries to apologize, but another retch interrupts him. More bile splatters both skaters. Yuri forgoes trying to apologize this time, just desperately tries to breathe and not throw up again. His throat is too raw to speak anyway.

Victor freezes for a moment, taking in the mess. Yuri just stares at his skates, hoping that the ice will just swallow him up. "I'm sorry, Yuri!" Victor apologizes anxiously, wringing his hands. "I should have realized that you were sick earlier. I'm a terrible coach!"

Yuri shakes his head, disagreeing. "You're not a terrible coach. Just very oblivious sometimes," he croaks.

"And you sound absolutely terrible. Let's get you home."

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Thank you for reading! Please leave a review!


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